


Getting To Know

by sidebyside_archivist



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Bonding, Episode: s03e02 Elaan of Troyius, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-11-01
Updated: 2000-11-01
Packaged: 2020-06-27 05:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidebyside_archivist/pseuds/sidebyside_archivist
Summary: Kirk confesses his feelings to Spock while trying to deal with his psychological rape by the Dolman of Elaas.





	Getting To Know

**Author's Note:**

> Note from LadyKardasi and Sahviere, the archivists: this story was originally archived at [Side by Side](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Side_by_Side_\(Star_Trek:_TOS_zine\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. We tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Side by Side’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sidebyside/profile).
> 
> Author's Note:  
> Fellow fen: this is situated in the third year of the five year mission, and instead of trying to adhere to stardates I went by airdates. I hope this isn't too confusing to the purists among us. It's fiction, after all.

“Spock, a moment of your time.”

Spock paused at the door to his quarters and turned toward his captain, who was striding down the corridor toward him. Spock pushed his fatigue aside; the last week had been difficult for the entire crew, and he was approaching his physical limits for duty without rest. “Sir.”

“Spock, it’s about Elaan…” He hesitated and, uncharacteristically, glanced around. “Can we go inside? I’d prefer some privacy.”

The hallway was empty, they were already private, but Spock was accustomed to Humans and merely nodded, palming the door to open it. Humans often resented his logical comments, though revealed their reasons for their actions if he simply ‘went along’. He preceded the captain and called for lights. Kirk shuffled around behind him as Spock glanced at his terminal and the Padds he had slaved to it - the results of his own chemical analysis of the Dohlman’s tears. Kirk seemed to recognize the work and his face was openly surprised when Spock turned to him.

“I though McCoy and BioSciences had done all of that,” he said. Spock shook his head.

“Doctor McCoy extended his research only far enough to provide an antidote for Human men, specifically you. As science officer I am the head of BioSciences, and this work is my own and that of a select team. I am concerned with the effect of the Dohlman’s tears on Human women as well as men, an aspect that Dr. McCoy chose to ignore. As well, we are investigating effects and cures for all the species within the Federation. It would not do to have another occurrence of this… disorderly conduct, inflicted on more Star Fleet personnel. Or anyone, against their will. Please sit down, Captain.” Spock began reviewing the data, letting it flow directly into his mind without trying to analyze it. Analysis would come later, once all the data was in.

Kirk perched on the arm of a chair, drumming the fingers of his left hand on his thigh. “About Elaan.”

“Yes, Captain. I am listening.” He glanced up at the continued silence. “Sir?”

“You’re reading your reports. I want your full attention. Damn it, this is important, Spock!”

The small and astonishing thrill of anger that Spock had been repeatedly feeling for the last few weeks ran through him again. Mother, he thought, if I had known this is how it felt I would have stayed on Vulcan. He began to run the quick series of meditative cues that would halt the anger, and then stopped.

This was Kirk. This was the man who had undermined his controls, whose friendship was demanding more and more of his time. The one he admired, even emulated. And not a man to back down from emotions. He let the anger reach his fore-mind and was amazed at himself when he said, “You have served with me for 2.25 years. I find it difficult to believe that, despite seeing me do this more times than I wish to recount for you, you don’t understand that I am capable of thinking about several things simultaneously. I fail to understand why you think I should waste my time by limiting my mind to Human norms. But if you insist on completely monopolizing me, I shall put all my resources at your disposal and waste three quarters of an hour for every hour you choose to speak to me. Will that satisfy you?”

Kirk’s eyes were huge. “You’re angry.”

“Yes. That is correct.”

“You’re always saying that you have no emotions.”

“I have never said that I have no emotions. I have repeatedly pointed out that I am in control of my emotions. I find that your efforts to destroy my control are beginning to be effective. Ergo, I am angry. But you demanded my attention and you have it. I am no longer thinking about my chemical analysis of the Dohlman’s tears, my diagnostic of the therideum fault in the second sequence ignitron of the starboard nacelle backup jettison system or the crew rotation for Delta watch. I warn you that if you take more than one hour I will be unable to complete my mission analysis of the away team to Troyius, the sick-leave quarterlies or track down the fuel consumption anomalies on Beta watch last Tuesday. Two hours will destroy my intention to file my paper on the Scalosians for this quarter’s ‘Space Science Review’ and my promise to Dr. McCoy to provide a footnote on his findings regarding the madness caused by the Tholians.”

Seeing the stunned look on his captain’s face he relented somewhat, and wondered if this was ‘shame’. The captain seemed rather upset. Spock admitted again to himself that he liked his captain very much, and didn’t wish to distress him unduly. “Filling the dual roles of First officer and Science officer requires a great deal of time. You have not found fault with my performance, yet you continually try to undermine my methods. But I am at your disposal. You are my Captain, and my friend. If you wish to talk about Elaan, I am listening.”

Kirk shifted on his chair. Spock noticed that his skin was paler than normal by a factor of .05 and that there was a tremor in the muscle of his right biceps. “You… were planning to do all of that in the next 2 hours?”

“I still can, if you will allow me to function as I am and not require me to function as a Human.” He saw a strange look cross the captain’s face, and it made him feel uncomfortable for reasons he couldn’t quantify. “I do understand that this was a traumatic episode for you. You are a man who leads, who must be in control of his surroundings and whatever situation confronts him. Elaan took that control and leadership away. As I said — I have emotions, Captain. I do not use them as you do. I do not often think of them or confront them, being trained, rather, to suppress them so that they do not interfere in my thinking. But I am capable, believe me, of understanding that they can adversely affect one, even after the fact.”

“Adversely affect. No kidding.” Kirk looked around his First Officer’s quarters and nodded. “I don’t suppose you have anything to drink in here?”

“If you are referring to alcohol, there is a bottle of scotch in the cabinet, a gift from Mr. Scott. You are welcome to it.” He watched Kirk find the bottle and pour himself a generous portion, and he noted with some alarm that his captain’s hands were shaking. He made a lightening decision and said, “I would join you in a drink. Let me shut this down. Perhaps we can sit in the other room, it is more conducive to social interaction.”

The grateful look Kirk sent him was not lost on the Vulcan. “It’s been three days since we got rid of that woman, Spock,” he began, taking the bottle and two glasses to Spock’s small table. “I still have nightmares, I can’t sleep.”

“Have you seen McCoy?” Spock settled across from him and accepted the offered glass. “You cannot operate at peak efficiency if you are not sleeping adequately.”

“Christ, you think I don’t know that?” He took a gulp of the whiskey and his eyes watered. “Wow. You rated the good stuff. I hope you thanked Scotty.”

“I did. We consumed a glass together. May I ask about these nightmares?”

Kirk took another gulp, and set down his glass. “You pretty much nailed it, Spock. The loss of control. And to have it all witnessed by… well, by you. You’re so completely controlled all the time, it was horrible to know you were watching me make such a fool of myself, yet to be unable to help myself. And if I talk to McCoy about it, I have to talk about that aspect as well.”

Spock considered that, head cocked slightly, one eyebrow raised. He _had_ felt this strange anger at seeing Kirk submit to Elaan, even though he knew that it was not Kirk’s fault. Understandable that Kirk was embarrassed, but it seemed out of character for him to avoid the Doctor’s assistance. “You have never before worried about McCoy’s interference in your life. You seem, in fact, to encourage it.”

“Not where you are concerned, Mister. I’ve had to talk to him about it before. He’s this close to getting an official reprimand for the way he speaks to you. It’s practically racism.” Kirk set down his glass and shoved his hands between his knees. Spock felt a fleeting moment of pleasure that Kirk had recognized what was happening with McCoy, recognized it and evidently acted on it. “But, about Elaan… Spock.”

“Captain?”

“I just felt so stupid. So weak! I wanted to say ‘no’, or to… punch her, or to be able to walk away from her… and instead I had to… I had to…” he turned pale and Spock became concerned that he was about to faint. “And McCoy and the others are all joking about how I always get the pretty girl! Like they envy me for being forced to service that…”

To his horror, Spock realized that his Captain was fighting tears. This was far more serious than it appeared on the surface; this was an obvious case of Acute Post Traumatic Stress disorder. He contemplating putting away the alcohol, then reasoned that it would just upset his friend more. Instead, he refilled Kirk’s glass and took a sip himself. “I suppose that is because you have a general reputation as a ‘ladies man’, and that perhaps McCoy and the others are uncomfortable with what happened, and so resort to ‘joking’.” He kept his voice soft.

“They all think I enjoyed it!” Kirk exploded out of his chair and began to pace the room, the whiskey sloshing in his glass. “Even Elaan’s men were jealous. None of them could see how much I loathed what was happening. Spock, I’ve been sexually active for years, you know I have. Women, men… always looking for the right one. But that’s the first time I’ve been raped.”

Raped! Spock grasped for an appropriate response, and could think of nothing to say. Anger threatened him again, and he had a sudden, irrational picture of strangling Elaan to death with his own hands. “I… cannot imagine how that must feel,” he said at last, and took a gulp of his own whiskey. “Elaan tried to force her people’s ways on you, to make you into a Troyan male, without any consideration of your Human heritage or preferences.”

“And you just got through telling me that’s what I keep doing to you… and now I’m questioning my motives on everything! Why do I do it? Why did Elaan? What arrogance is it that makes us think our species’ way is the _right_ way? And I claim to follow IDIC…” He sank back into his chair and raised his eyes to Spock’s. “I am sorry, Spock. I sincerely apologize for trying to limit you to Human norms. I wish you… I hope that you won’t let me get away with it, in the future. I respect you. I like you too much to want to limit you.”

“I… can think of no appropriate response. I will endeavour to do as you request.” The word, ‘rape’ hung there in his mind. “Is there anything that I can do to help you recover more fully from this disturbing incident? I would regret thinking that you had suffered ongoing sexual dysfunction due to this, which research indicates is a frequent side effect of rape.”

Kirk stared, then emptied his glass and set it down. Spock promptly refilled it. Kirk left it sitting, and shifted in his chair, his face flushed. “It is?”

“Yes. In fact, the most common side effect, after the initial shock has subsided, is loss of self-respect and confidence, and the long term loss of libido including an aversion to being touched in any way. Also a perception that one is ‘tainted’, or ‘dirty’, in some fashion. Unless one gets treatment by a professional, or very considered attention from a person they feel… that they trust, such side effects can last for years.”

Kirk dropped his face into his hands. “At least I can trust you not to tell McCoy.”

“Yes, you may trust me for that. But will you trust me in another way?”

“What do you mean?”

“Captain… Jim. Stop drinking now. You need a good night’s sleep. Let us go through to your cabin, and I will give you a therapeutic massage designed to assist you in sleeping comfortably. If you awake with nightmares, you have my personal permission to come through our adjoining door and wake me to discuss them. I may not be a professional counsellor, but I am your friend, and I would like to assist you.”

He couldn’t interpret the look on Kirk’s face. The captain held his eyes for several breaths, then looked down at his glass. “Spock… Spock. Spock. Do you remember that I said, one of the worst parts was knowing that you were witnessing my total loss of control?”

Spock knit his eyebrows and reviewed their conversation. “Yes. I clearly remember that.”

“Then I must tell you that… your offer is very generous. I am tempted almost beyond my capacity to resist, but for the wrong reasons. I don’t think that you giving me a massage, therapeutic intentions aside, is going to help me relax.”

Spock’s mind flashed through all the possible meanings of that statement, and he caught his breath involuntarily at the one most likely intended. “Are you saying that my touch would have the opposite effect than to relax you?”

“Yes. I am saying that.” Kirk swallowed everything in his glass, then reached out and poured himself another large whiskey. “I will not, however, try to force my Human wants and needs on you. Never again. But you deserve an honest answer to your generous offer. I like you more than a little, Spock; in fact I care very deeply about you. More than that, I think you are the sexiest person on this ship, Spock, one of the sexiest people I have ever met, and I doubt I could stand having you touch me in such an intimate way without trying to take advantage of you. Besides, you’d know that immediately, wouldn’t you. If you touched me in an intimate way. What I felt.”

Spock nodded, stunned. “I would know. Yes.”

“So I might as well confess it. I won’t lie to you about why I’m turning down your offer. I would never try to push you into a relationship, Spock. But watching you, working with you for the last couple of years, I find myself wishing there was someone like you that I could settle into a lifetime with. You’re so smart, and beautiful, and capable, and so fucking brilliant.” Kirk stared bleakly into his glass, then took another gulp. “I love watching the way you think. I can’t imagine why I never realized how different it is from the way I think. I always just thought you were better at it than me. Smarter.”

“There is nothing wrong with the way you think.” Spock responded automatically. “You cannot, biologically, multi-task in the way my Vulcan heritage and training allows. However, you are exceptional at multi-dimensional thinking, something which totally eludes me,” Spock went on, most of his brain trying to process the extraordinary statement his commanding officer had just made. “A moment, please. I require a moment to think about this. This field of thought is totally non-linear and I am unused to processing emotional input in this way.”

“Please, don’t feel any pressure or…” Kirk subsided into silence for a minute, then sighed. “I must tell you though, I haven’t lost my libido where you’re concerned. I understand that this is probably an unwelcome confession. I’ll go now, and perhaps we can talk about this again sometime. I hope that we can remain friends, that this won’t…” He blushed crimson. “And please don’t worry. Elaan… you’ve put her in perspective for me. She thought it was alright to do what she did. She has no idea the damage she caused.” He drained his glass and stood up. “Thank you for your undivided attention, Spock.”

Spock rose automatically. “You are most welcome, sir. And… thank you for your honesty. I shall reflect upon what you have told me.”

“That’s all I can ask.” Kirk moved as if to take Spock’s hand, then dropped his arm. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

Spock stood in the half darkness for a long time, his mind racing, before he realized that all of this needed to be taken to meditation and he hadn’t the time for several hours. Pressing his fatigue and his raging emotions aside, he returned to his terminal and ordered it on.

∗ ∗ ∗

Kirk took his seat on the bridge the next morning looking tired. Spock noted it out of the corner of his eye as he continued with his review of the toxicology reports from his study of the Dohlman’s tears. This project had taken priority for him, despite the logical fact that it was unlikely any Federation citizen would come in contact with the Dohlman in the immediate future. He knew it wasn’t logical, but he wanted to present Kirk with his findings and the various cures as soon as possible. Perhaps knowing that the Dohlman was no longer a threat to anyone would reduce the residual stress that the captain felt.

Spock, too, had spent a sleepless night. He regretted it, but after 3 more hours of work he had been unable to summon the discipline to meditate upon his captain’s extraordinary confession. And without meditation he had been unable to calm his emotional upheaval sufficiently to allow sleep. His level of exhaustion was reaching critical, and he estimated that he could function for another 18 hours maximum before he began to be seriously impaired.

They both got through the day. Spock didn’t think that anyone on the bridge realized how hard Kirk was struggling, though he saw Uhura shoot one or two concerned looks down to the centre seat. When Spock’s relief finally showed up at 1730 he was hard pressed not to appear grateful for the reprieve. He gathered his padds and datachips and walked slowly to the turbolift.

“Spock, a moment.” Spock’s heart gave a leap, and he chided himself for his rampant emotionalism. Kirk had followed him, Kirk frequently did. Fortunately for Spock, Uhura and Michaelson also entered the lift. Kirk swallowed, and glanced at him briefly. “Will you join me for dinner in the mess hall?”

“Certainly, sir,” Spock replied, glad that it was such a simple, routine and public request. “I will be there at 1800. Is that agreeable?”

“Fine, Mr. Spock. Half an hour. I wonder if you managed to complete that paper on the Scalosians? No pressure, but I’m interested on your take on the matter.”

Spock nodded. “I did complete it, and will bring it with me.”

“Fine.” They walked off the lift in Officer country, Uhura right beside them. Not another word was spoken as Kirk stopped at his quarters and keyed the lock, but Spock saw Uhura watching him as he entered his own quarters. He nodded briefly, and dismissed her from his thoughts.

Kirk, alone, was enough Human to worry about tonight.

He showered and changed into a clean uniform, gathered his article onto a fresh padd and walked down to the mess hall. It was busy and noisy, to his relief. He was surprised at feeling relieved; the mess hall was always busy after Alpha shift. Kirk waved to him from the officers’ chow line and he crossed the room to pick up his own tray before joining his captain at the hot table.

“It looks okay, huh?”

Spock glanced over the various offerings and noted a vegetarian eggplant dish. He secretly loved eggplant. He nodded to the captain and ordered a double helping of “Meatless Moussaka”, then followed Kirk to the Captain’s table. “Are all Vulcans vegetarians, Mr. Spock?”

“No, Captain. There are sects that eat meat, though none of their followers are currently involved in inter-planetary politics so I am not surprised you have not heard of them. They dwell in the deep desert, where agriculture is impossible, and hunt for their food.”

Kirk stopped eating and considered that. “There isn’t any planetary distribution of foodstuffs? No international markets, such as Earth has?”

“No. You surprise me, sir. I understood that you had done extensive research on Vulcans.” Spock began to eat his eggplant, enjoying the complexity of the dish.

“Well, with you as my only example I concentrated mainly on the culture of Shi’Kahr. I guess I never thought about there being different sects. But of course, the people who thought up IDIC… Can you explain why you don’t have a distribution system for food?”

Spock nodded. “We do not believe in polluting our various indigenous cultures by imposing a mass media, a retail food distribution system, or universal education. There are several distinct cultures on Vulcan and we cherish them all.”

“But…” Kirk stopped, then cut and chewed and swallowed a portion of his steak before continuing. “If your desert dwelling people run into a famine problem, does the planetary government intervene?”

“Intervene? No. Aid, certainly, at the request of the affected community. My own community’s aversion to consuming animal protein does not stop us from allowing flesh eaters to transport to our lands and hunt there, during lean times on their own lands. We do not consider ‘property’ in the same light that most Humans do. Our system is closer to the old American Indian system than to yours. Property is held as a gift, not an absolute right.”

Kirk looked intrigued. “An interesting system. Does it happen often? That folks hunt on your land, I mean?”

“I do not know how to apply the word ‘often’ in this context. Twice in my lifetime the desert nomads have applied for and received permission to transport onto my father’s property to hunt.” Spock set down his fork and studied his captain. “Am I right in assuming that after our discussion last night, you are curious about my people?”

“I’m damned curious about some of them, Spock.” Kirk’s smile jolted Spock, and he was forced to look away to control the surge of affection he felt. “Perhaps you could recommend some reading that is simple enough for a Human to understand?”

“Don’t count on that, Jim!” McCoy was suddenly looming over them, tray in hand. Spock felt himself retreating from the welcome warmth he’d felt, and he saw Kirk’s face close down. He expected Kirk to welcome McCoy, as he normally did, and was shocked into thoughtlessness when Kirk answered.

“I beg your pardon, Doctor? Can you explain that remark?”

McCoy swung a leg over the chair beside Spock and plunked down his tray. “You know what I mean, Jim. Spock couldn’t possibly recommend something simple. It’d spoil his mystique!”

Spock looked down at his meal and sighed internally. The moussaka had lost its appeal. He hadn’t even had a chance to show Jim his article about the Scalosians. Resigned to McCoy’s presence, he gathered his things onto his tray. “Excuse me, Captain, I have work to do.”

“No, Mister, I don’t excuse you. Please remain seated.” Spock looked and saw the anger suffusing Kirk’s face. He felt a strange warmth in his belly, and subsided into his seat, watching Kirk. “Doctor McCoy.”

“What the hell is eating you, Jim?”

“You are, Doctor. And that’s Captain, not ‘Jim’.” Spock’s internal world wobbled. Kirk was going to shut McCoy down, right in front of him. A war of apprehension and appreciation began in his chest, but he schooled his face into its normal calm mask. “I’ve spoken to you about this before, and you just crossed the line, Mister. My first officer is Vulcan. I expect you recognize that fact?”

“Half..”

“Permission to comment was not given, Doctor. Just a ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

McCoy looked stunned, but fell silent. “A simple yes or no, Doctor.”

“Yes, he was raised as a Vulcan, but that doesn’t..”

“Yes, then.” Kirk cut him off, eyes hard. Spock was reminded of the way he’d looked bluffing Balok. He felt many conflicting things at once, something he was unfamiliar with. Filed it with the other new feelings; Meditate, later. “You know that he is not a Human being. He is, by birth but even more by training and, most importantly, by choice, a Vulcan being. I will not tolerate another episode of racism by you. Period. Is that understood?”

“But he _is_ half Human, Ji… Captain. What gives him the right to reject us like that?” The bitter acrimony in the doctor’s voice was lost on no one.

“He hasn’t _rejected_ us, Doctor. He lives and works among us, where do you see rejection there? He _has_ accepted his Vulcan ancestry and training as his style of life. If you choose to worship Shiva, or practice Shabbat, will it be alright with you if I tease you mercilessly, belittle your beliefs and make fun of you in front of your co-workers and superiors just because I was raised Baptist?”

“Jim, I think…”

“Doctor, I am the Captain of this ship.” Kirk lowered his voice, and Spock was astonished by his apparent calm. “I find that you are treating a minority member of my crew with disrespect. I am going to place this on your record. If you have mended your ways within one standard month, this review will be removed. If I witness, or hear of, one more offence, it will go on your permanent record. A second offence will find you back on Earth where your bigotry can be contained. It has no place on a Starship dedicated to discovering new civilizations.” Kirk sat back and stabbed his fork into his steak.

The entire mess hall was silent. Not one ear had missed a single word. McCoy stood up, but didn’t gather his tray. Instead he walked, straight backed, to the door. Kirk began to saw at his steak again, and said aloud; “I’m sorry if you were embarrassed by that, Commander. But racial prejudice needs to be caught as it occurs. Would you please show me that article on the Scalosians now?”

Spock realized he was fighting-tense. He eased his shoulders and lifted his padd. “Yes, Captain. It is all on here.” He passed the padd across, then mechanically lifted his fork. “I hope that it meets your approval,” he ventured, and was rewarded by a brilliant smile.

“Mr. Spock, I will be extremely surprised if it doesn’t.”

Spock found that the flavour of the moussaka had improved enormously. He dug in with enthusiasm, and was stone-facedly delighted by his captain’s comments and questions about his thesis.

IDIC, he thought. Perhaps it was as possible among Humans as it was in other races.

Or perhaps it was just that he had caught the captain’s eye. He filed that one for meditation as well, and continued with his dinner.

He found that after leaving Jim in the corridor he was able to complete the work he had assigned himself for the day, meditate on the racism issue, and sleep easily. He didn’t allow himself to worry about the compartment in his mind that contained his captain’s confession. Tomorrow would come.

∗ ∗ ∗

“I don’t appreciate being ‘dressed down’ in front of the entire crew _Captain_!” McCoy’s blue eyes were shining with anger. Kirk glanced up from where he stood, fastening his uniform tunic, and looked his old friend up and down.

“Good morning to you too, Bones. Nobody likes to take their licks in public, but I told you before I wouldn’t tolerate your constant sniping at Spock. What made you think I wouldn’t enforce that?” He turned and checked his appearance in the mirror. After dinner last night he’d finally managed to get 10 hours of solid sleep, uninterrupted by nightmares, and being well rested found McCoy’s invasion of his quarters only mildly annoying this morning.

“Dammit, I thought I was your friend, Jim!”

“You are. I hope you still will be. You are also a subordinate officer who was acting in an inappropriate fashion. As chief medical officer, hell as _any_ crewperson, your behaviour was intolerable and set a bad example for the whole crew. Thus, I felt it perfectly appropriate to point out your mistake in front of the crew, in case any of them were getting racist ideas. From your tone this morning, I would guess that you haven’t thought about what I said.”

McCoy was silent, then he seemed to relax slightly. “Of course I’ve thought about it. I still think he’s wrong, rejecting Humanity like that.”

“Then I think you need to do a little remedial studying, Doctor. I’ll have Spock provide you with some material. You need to know a lot more about Vulcan if you’re going to get over that bias.” Kirk’s annoyance was turning into anger, though he enjoyed the flabbergasted look on McCoy’s face as he pushed past him to the door.

“And are you going to make him read up on Humans, too?” The sneer in McCoy’s voice was intolerable. Jim took a deep breath.

“I don’t need to do that, Doctor. Spock has done extensive research on Humans. I’m sure you can appreciate that he would, knowing he would be serving among us. His embracing of Vulcan traditions is not an insult to Humans, Doctor. I’m going to overlook this outburst, but the next time I hear anything about it, I _am_ placing a reprimand on your permanent record.”

He stalked out the door, leaving McCoy open mouthed in the middle of his quarters.

∗ ∗ ∗

Spock noted that Kirk looked well rested, at last. A knot of tension he hadn’t known he was feeling dissolved, and he went back to his review of the crew’s latest efficiency drills, resolved to confront the issue of Kirk’s attraction after his duty shift was over. It was obviously not staying in its compartment, if he was feeling tension over Kirk’s well-being during a duty shift.

The day passed quickly. Kirk left him in command early in the day, to do his weekly walk-about. He liked to observe all the ship’s departments in all shifts on a regular basis. He had explained to Spock that most Humans worked better if they knew the person in charge was monitoring them, or at least cared about what they were doing. Spock accepted that, as he accepted everything Kirk told him about Humans. Kirk was an astute judge of character.

When his shift ended, Spock hurried to his quarters, determined to meditate on this issue of Kirk’s attraction and find a means of integrating the knowledge into his daily life. He changed into his short meditation robe and lit the flame. But as he knelt before the fire-pot beast and tried to clear his mind, one phrase after another kept tumbling through his mind, uncontrolled and uncontrollable. “you’re the sexiest man on this ship,” “tempted almost beyond my capacity to resist” “haven’t lost my libido where you’re concerned…” Spock struggled, but could not quiet his mind. Eventually he stood up and just tried thinking about it.

Kirk saw him as a sexual being. Well, fair enough. Spock had never considered himself ‘sexy’, as a Human might term it, but he knew he had a passionate nature. Hard for a Human to see it though. It was part of the reason Vulcans practiced control; when passions were allowed to run free among his people it had been disastrous. Even now, during that seven year cycle when all control was stripped away there was frequently death and destruction in a Vulcan’s unrestrained passions.

Did Spock view Kirk as an object for sexual attraction? He had already admitted to himself a great liking for the man. He felt anger when he was abused, and distress for his distress. Spock listed carefully those things he found compelling in his friend. His fine mind, certainly. His way of thinking, so different from Spock’s but so effective in a commander. He inspired loyalty in his crew; Spock didn’t understand how that was done, but he recognized it and appreciated it. A loyal crew worked better for their ship. Spock admired the way Kirk’s sense of humour worked. He didn’t like to be teased, but when Kirk teased he could tell there was no malice in it. Unlike McCoy. And Kirk cared deeply about his ship and crew. He would die to protect any person on board; illogical, but a proven fact. He had almost died many times. But was he… ‘sexy’?

Spock pictured Kirk in his mind, scanning him from head to toe. He was fit, certainly. His skin had a healthy glow, his unusual hazel-gold eyes were bright and alert. None of this made him sexy. Spock then pictured him undressed, and was surprised to find that his penis had dropped from its protective sheath.

“Empirical evidence?” He heard the dry humour in his own voice. “That hasn’t happened in a while!”

He considered his half aroused condition, then decided to experiment further. In the interest of avoiding a mess he padded into the bathroom and hung his robe on the door, then stepped into the shower. Very gently he stroked his penis, eyes closed, running that picture again. This time, he imagined Kirk _taking off_ his clothes, and with a little surge of pleasure his testicles dropped as well. Interesting… he turned Kirk around, examined him from all sides. The view in his mind’s eye made him stagger. He set one hand against the shower wall, and wrapped the other firmly around himself, beginning to stroke hard. Banished the image of Kirk…

…and found that his arousal abated almost immediately. Spock sighed, and summoned Kirk again, and this time let his imagination tell him that it was Kirk’s hand on his penis, stroking him, that Kirk was murmuring in his ear ‘sexiest man on this ship”…

He came with a shout, and leaned hard against the wall, panting, his heart racing. No mistaking that reaction. Empirical evidence indeed! What compartment of his many layered mind had he been suppressing this in?

It took a long minute before he felt steady enough to push himself away from the wall. He turned on the water and began cleaning himself up, enjoying the feel of the jets on his sex-sensitized skin. “I have become a hedonist,” he told himself aloud, and was shocked to hear his captain’s peal of laughter from the other side of the shower door.

Spock pushed the steamed-up door open and peered out. Kirk was there, leaning against the counter, his eyes sparkling, dressed only in a towel. He was smiling broadly. “Was that for me, Spock?” he asked, his voice soft.

“You saw?”

“I saw. I’m sorry to have invaded your privacy; I didn’t realize you were in here and once I did… I couldn’t look away. It was beautiful.”

Spock ducked back into the shower and let the water rain down, half embarrassed but mostly amused and flattered. He decided that a joke was in order. “A man masturbates once in 2 years and gets caught. I cannot calculate the odds of that occurring.”

Kirk laughed again, delightedly. He opened the shower door and looked in at Spock. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Spock’s breath caught. His penis, half retracted, dropped again and began to engorge as he stared into his captain’s eyes. “It was for you.”

“May I come in?”

“You may.” He noted that Kirk was in an advanced state of arousal himself, and the recognition sent a wave of fire through his belly. Kirk reached out, tentatively, and looked up at Spock again. “You may,” Spock repeated.

Kirk’s touch was pure sex. It was better than Spock had imagined; a caress that spoke volumes for the feelings behind it. “It’s normally sheathed, I’ve never seen it down before. It’s gorgeous,” he husked, and Spock had to lean back against the wall to keep from falling.

“You make my knees weak,” he said, found his voice coming out in a whisper.

“Then perhaps bed would be a better place for us. If you’re willing.”

“I am willing.” Spock felt bereft when the hand went away, but was able to open his eyes and turn off the water. He followed Kirk out, and stood panting as the Human dried him off. “You know I have little experience.”

“I know. Don’t worry. Come on, you’ll be more comfortable in your quarters. Warmer.” He carefully locked the connecting door to his own rooms, then led Spock into the First Officer’s rooms. “Privacy lock.”

“Computer, privacy lock,” Spock called, and received an ‘affirmative’ in reply. Kirk had already vanished into the bedroom. When Spock entered, he caught his breath again at the sight of Jim, lying on his back with his knees up and spread wide. He just stood for a moment, examining every inch of the exposed skin, the engorged cock, the flushed cheeks and shining eyes. Then he knelt beside him and stroked his chest gently. “Guide me. I am lost in this…”

Kirk groaned and rolled over, pulling Spock into his arms. Spock could feel the Human’s arousal along with his own, and under the arousal his deep affection, and his delight that this was happening at last. “You feel beautiful,” he whispered. Kirk gazed at him and smiled.

“Kiss me.” Their mouths met and opened, and Spock’s first taste of a Human spoiled him for all others. The sensation of Kirk’s tongue, the soft lips, the smooth teeth, the rough palate, every feeling seemed to travel by some mysterious pathway straight to the Vulcan’s crotch. He was pressing hard against the Human, one leg thrown over Kirk’s hip, their erections straining together. Then Kirk began to move against him and Spock’s hands closed convulsively on his shoulders.

“Careful, mister,” Kirk husked into his mouth. “You’ll break me.”

Spock realized he was bruising the weaker man, and forced himself to relax his grip. Kirk slid against him in an easy rhythm, and Spock had to release the hot mouth, unable to think of anything but the feelings rippling through him. He flung his head back and cried out Jim’s name, and heard his own name called as Kirk seemed to convulse against him. The powerful feelings of Jim’s orgasm triggered his own, and he came hard against Kirk’s belly, overwhelmed by the dual Human/Vulcan ecstasy.

“Spock? Are you okay?” He opened his eyes to see Jim leaning over him, evidently concerned. Spock realized he had lost 1.25 minutes of time; his heart was still pounding, his breathing still ragged. “You passed out.”

“I was unprepared for the intensity of experiencing both of our emotions at climax,” he managed, and saw Kirk relax. “Yours are particularly intense.”

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” He leaned down and kissed Spock’s neck, and Spock sighed as he felt that strong affection again. “Will that happen every time?”

“Unknown. Certainly, as I become accustomed to…” he trailed off. “I am assuming that you will allow me to become accustomed,” he finished, shyly. Kirk smiled and leaned down again, kissed him on the mouth.

“That’s the intention, Spock. I can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else. It must be fabulous, being able to feel what your partner feels when you make love.” He lay down and put his arm across Spock’s chest, and Spock felt himself fighting a smile at the sensation of the cool hand tickling his chest hair.

“I can arrange for you to feel it as well. Perhaps we would both pass out.” Kirk snorted with laughter. “I enjoyed feeling your emotions, but that is pale compared with the idea of feeling your thoughts and sharing your physical sensations at that moment. I am certain that, at least the first time, I would lose consciousness. If you like, I can meld us next time.”

Kirk came back up on one elbow and studied Spock’s face. “Do you think my frail Human brain could handle that?”

“Your mind is not frail, Jim,” Spock replied. “I have seen it before. I would not suggest such a thing if I thought it could harm you.”

“Then let’s try it. But not now. Now, I’m starving, and I bet you are too.”

“I am hungry.”

“Let’s shower then, and go for dinner.” He laughed out loud. “I wish I had your control. I’m sure I’m glowing! Do you suppose the whole crew will be able to see that I’m in love?”

Spock stared at Jim, rolling that word over in his mind. Love. Jim in love with him. That was the name for that deep affection and joy he had felt. “Are you in love, Jim?” Jim sat up cross-legged and stared back.

“I am. I… don’t know if you love me, or even if you can love me. I tried not to fall in love with you, God knows I tried. But you just kept amazing me in a new way, showing me another lovable thing about you, and down I’d go again.” He touched the tight, hairy belly of his new lover, and shivered. “The notion that I might be alone in this feeling is frightening. But I’ll take whatever you feel you can give me, Spock. For as long as you’re willing to give it.”

He rose then, not waiting for a response, and padded back to the washroom. Spock watched him go, trying to analyze his own emotions. They were complex, and they were intense. Respect and desire warred for top position. Admiration was certainly there. Friendship. A desire to protect, and a desire to please. A deep satisfaction that he was loved. Did all these things together add up to what Jim meant by love? Passion. Jim had dared his passion, and not been disappointed. He realized his thoughts were going in circles, and decided that he was more in need of food for his belly right now than food for his mind.

∗ ∗ ∗

McCoy sat in the far corner of the mess hall. He was still fuming over Kirk’s public ‘spanking’, and was angered even further to see the captain and the Vulcan walk in together, deep in conversation. He wasn’t a bigot, dammit! If that arrogant Vulcan half breed preferred the cold, rational, dull world of Vulcan over the warm, open and interesting world of Humans, then he could freeze in it for all McCoy cared.

He was startled out of these black thoughts by Jim’s unmistakable bellow of laughter. They were at the hot table, and Jim was laughing uproariously, while Spock regarded him with that bland mask, one eyebrow raised. Probably said something inappropriate and didn’t know what, McCoy mused. The server behind the hot table was grinning too. Huh. He watched the two walk to the Captain’s table and settle down, then stood up himself and sauntered over to the hot table.

“What was that all about?” he asked, and the server turned to him with a smile.

“Oh, Mr. Spock made a joke. About the Captain preferring his meat still moving so he could kill it himself. It was quite funny, Doc. Get you anything?”

McCoy startled out of his thoughts and shook his head. “No, changed my mind. Got to get back to work.”

He hurried out of the mess hall, trying to reconcile his vision of Spock with the idea of Spock making a joke. “Probably doesn’t understand _why_ it was funny,” he told himself at last. “Vegetarian, of course. Doesn’t get his own joke! Poor shmuck.”

In his office he was dismayed to find a stack of padds with literature on Vulcan, and an order from his captain to turn in a report by month’s end. “The Ten most fascinating facts about Vulcan history from the time of Surak to the present day, touching on what aspects of each turning point give us some insight into the Vulcan way of life of today. No shorter than 10,000 words. Additionally, prepare a discussion paper on the contrasts between Vulcan approach to logic and the Human approach. Finally, research and report on the history of the House of Sarek.” McCoy slammed his hands on the table and bellowed. “Jim, you are going too far here!”

“Doctor? What’s wrong?” Chris Chapel stuck her head in the door.

“That damned… never mind, Chris. Sorry I yelled.” He sat down. “Shit, he’s been insufferable since we disagreed about the Tholians. I should have known he’d side with the Vulcan. Damn.”

∗ ∗ ∗

McCoy probably would have felt a bit better if he knew that Kirk himself was taking lessons about Vulcans. A little more advanced lessons, but difficult in their own way. “What will your parents think of you being with me?”

Spock straightened up from putting on his boots and looked over at Kirk. The captain was lounging in bed, naked and sated. Spock had just had his first lesson in oral sex and was tempted to go back for more. He hadn’t dared meld them that time; it had seemed too dangerous, given the nature of the exercise. And now duty called; an evening conference in Physical Sciences. “I do not know. It is my prerogative to pick my partner, since their choice failed so badly.”

“Am I your partner?”

“Do you wish to be?”

“You know I do.” Kirk snuggled back into the pillow, displaying himself flagrantly. “You think I’m gonna let you go through Pon Farr with someone else, you’re out of your mind.”

“Then we should make a formal announcement and arrange a period of time together in which to Bond,” Spock replied, and was surprised when Kirk sat up, his face animated. “Perhaps after this mission to Elba II. I think we are due for some shore leave.”

“Do you mean that? Did you just ask me to marry you?”

Spock cocked his head and felt that deep affection swelling up again. “I always mean what I say. But if we Bond, Jim, it is forever. There can be no more women, no more casual affairs. You should think it over. You are a highly sexed man, and can have your pick of lovers.” He rose and moved to the door. “I do not ever want to cause you to regret having chosen me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Kirk sighed. “I guess I’d better go to bed. You’ll be out all night, won’t you?”

“Most probably. However you are welcome to remain where you are, if it pleases you.”

“It pleases me.” Kirk smiled and stretched. “It smells like you in the bed, like sex. But I’ll sleep better in the other room, and I want to be sharp when we get to Elba. God, I hate penal colonies. I wish we were advanced enough not to need them.”

“I concur. But irrecoverable psychoses still exist. It is unfortunate. Perhaps this new drug will prove its worth and fewer people will suffer. Goodnight, Jim.”

“‘Night, Spock. See you tomorrow.”

The trip down to Elba II proved a near disaster. It was fully 2 nights later that Kirk, exhausted, stumbled through the adjoining bathroom and fell into the arms of the Vulcan. “God, Spock. Garth.”

Spock merely held him, overcome by the powerful mixture of fear, shame and anger coming in waves off of Kirk. After the rape by Elaan, the impersonation and torture by Garth had hit Kirk like a physical beating. Spock had been forced to control himself very hard, in order to avoid killing the madman. “I am sorry I was unable to physically distinguish between you. Had we melded recently…”

“Let’s meld then, frequently as we can! I am so sorry I had to ask you to stun me. I know how you dislike violence.” Kirk pushed back and tossed the errant lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. It immediately fell back. Spock quirked his lips and pushed the hair gently onto Kirk’s head.

“I am sorry, too. I wished to kill Garth, for hurting you.”

“Oh, Spock. I am sorry.” Kirk pressed his face into the broad, strong chest. “Did McCoy behave himself? I was too tired to review the logs.”

“After a fashion. He did manage to avoid insulting me, and he did not endanger the mission.”

“Make love to me, Spock. I want you to fuck me. I need that. Will you?”

Spock grew very still, the idea causing him almost unbearable instant arousal. “Are you sure? You seem very tired.”

“Queen to queen’s level 3, Spock,” Kirk replied. “I’m sure.”

“Queen to king’s level 1,” Spock answered softly. He moved back enough to be able to pull Kirk’s shirt over his head, and ran his hands down the smooth chest. Undid the uniform pants. Kirk had already discarded his boots in his own quarters, so he was able to remove the trousers easily. Then the socks, and lastly the briefs. Kirk’s erection jutted toward him, and he stroked it softly. “To bed, then. I will be there in a moment.”

Spock retrieved a jar of lubricant from their bathroom, stripped and put on his short meditation robe. When he returned to the bedroom Kirk was sitting, arms wrapped around his knees, shivering slightly. Spock raised one eyebrow. “You cannot be cold.”

“No, I think it’s just a delayed reaction to the last couple of days. Please, don’t let it stop you. I want you so badly…”

He pressed Kirk back on the bed, reviewing quickly his theoretical knowledge of this procedure. He began simply by touching; teasing Kirk’s nipples, stroking his cock, gently massaging his scrotum. Then, very carefully, beginning to stretch and lubricate the muscles of Kirk’s anus.

The incredible tightness startled him. “Are you sure this will not hurt you, Jim?”

“Oh, only at first. It will, yes. It’s good though, after. It’s the best. You’ll meld with me, won’t you? You’ll feel how good it is… Please, that’s enough, Spock. Please come in.”

Spock felt unconvinced, but quickly removed his robe, oiled his own penis, and then placed himself at the opening to Kirk’s body. Kirk squirmed, raising his hips and then placing his legs up, against Spock, over Spock’s shoulders. Spock shuddered at the utter vulnerability of Jim’s position, and gently pressed forward.

It was unbelievable. Tight, massaging his cock, almost pulling him forward until, with a groan he was all the way in and Jim was pressing back toward him, saying his name over and over. He began to move, slowly at first, remembering somehow to stimulate Jim as well with his hand. Then Kirk grabbed at his hand, and guided it toward his face. “Spock. You need to feel this. I need to feel you. Please.”

“In this position, Jim, it is not necessary to touch those particular meld points.” Jim looked at him, utterly trusting, his face flushed pink with desire, then nodded and dropped his hand. Spock returned to his careful stroking of Jim’s cock, and let his mind roam outwards through all the points of contact he shared with this man. _there you are, James. we share. we are one.._

Oh! He nearly came from the sensation in his/James’ colon, where his cock stroked against their prostate! It was indescribable! Jim howled as he began to experience the sensation of Spock’s cock as well as his own, and his mind was chanting _love, love, love you Spock, fuck me Spock, love me Spock_

Spock felt like he was spinning around. He began to thrust, hard, wanting this, wanting this man again and again and again, and he felt the explosion beginning in both of them simultaneously. Tried to ride it, tried to resist the loss of control and then was suddenly shouting Jim’s name, over and over, feeling the love and release and relief and joy coming over them both in equal waves…

He found himself first, floating on the bed as if all his bones had dissolved. Never in his life had he experienced such a moment. He reached with his mind, found Kirk sprawled underneath him. Spock forced himself to concentrate and withdrew from Kirk’s body, sprawled out beside him. Jim was still drifting on a sea of pleasure, and Spock joined him there until they could breathe and return to their minds.

“That…” Jim cleared his throat. “I never want to move again. Nothing could ever be that perfect again.”

And Spock felt love welling up inside of him. Not just affection and friendship. The now unmistakable feeling of total belonging, and total trust. Jim did move, rolling over to look at Spock, and his look was one of surprise.

“I don’t believe it. Spock, there are tears in your eyes!”

Spock nodded, unable to speak. Instead he reached tentatively for Kirk’s face, and Jim smiled. “You may.”

He shared what he was feeling, carefully and humbly. When Kirk pulled away he was smiling and had tears in his own eyes. “Thank you, Spock. I love you too.”

“Jim… if we do that again, I’m afraid we will Bond spontaneously. It will be beyond my ability to control.”

“That would make me a very happy man. Just give me a few minutes to recover.”

“I don’t think you understand…”

“Yes, I do. We’re eloping.”

∗ ∗ ∗

McCoy had decided to get the Vulcan reading over with quickly, and despite his anger at the assignment had to admit that he’d really misunderstood the culture of his First Officer’s chosen people. He knew he could never live like that, but his research into structures of logic led him to understand that Spock could hardly choose to live otherwise. Thinking back to his behaviour over the Tholians, he felt a deep sense of shame at how badly he’d mis-read the Vulcan’s actions.

And the literature that he’d been forced to read showed him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there was probably a very good reason that Vulcans attempted to master their emotions and devote themselves to a life of the mind. They were damned dangerous! He reflected on the events on Vulcan during Spock’s Pon Farr and concluded that he had sadly misinterpreted that, as well. The articles about Surak and the development of the logical society confirmed it.

Spock’s family, that was an eye-opener. Enough intrigue and passion in that group to make a long running soap opera. And Spock himself was practically a Prince, if one thought about it. Certainly a very important man among his people. His courage in leaving home against his father’s wishes made McCoy squirm.

He was a bigot.

He felt ashamed of himself.

Well, no more. He wasn’t going to carry on this behaviour. It was embarrassing to admit he was wrong, but Jim was right. He had treated Spock badly. Dammit, a man didn’t get to be one of the best Chief Medical officers in Fleet by being afraid to admit to a mistake.

The third night after Kirk’s return from Elba he made his way toward the Captain’s quarters late in the ship’s day, and hit the announcer. “Jim, it’s Bones. Do you have a minute?”

There was a short silence, and then the door slid open. McCoy almost changed his mind when he saw Spock there, Kirk and Spock sitting at the table playing chess and drinking brandy. In their bathrobes. Well, they did share a bathroom. Then he decided that this was the perfect opportunity to make amends to both of them.

“What’s up, Bones?”

McCoy stepped into the room and the door shut behind him. “Well, I’m glad you’re both here. I’ll get right to the point. Spock; I owe you an apology. I’m sorry, I’ve been treating you badly. Jim was right, I didn’t understand your culture, or why you have made the choices you did. I know you always say that apologies are illogical, but I hope to show you that I mean what I say by not continuing in my prejudiced behaviour toward you.”

There. He’d said it. Both his senior officers were staring at him as if he’d just announced the second coming. He felt rather gratified by the result of his little speech.

Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance, and McCoy felt strangely cut out of the loop. It was like they were talking without speaking. Then Kirk cleared his throat.

“Computer, personnel logs. Doctor McCoy. Remove the reprimand regarding Commander Spock. Acknowledge.”

“Reprimand has been removed.”

“Computer off.” Kirk waved a hand. “Pull up a chair, pour yourself some brandy. Let’s talk Vulcan mating rituals.”

Spock turned green, and McCoy grinned as he obeyed Kirk’s command. “I don’t think Spock likes talking about Vulcan mating rituals, Jim.”

“Well, one mating ritual in particular then. You’re my friend, Bones. You seem to have gotten over your antipathy toward Spock.”

“I have. I’m really sorry. Spock’s choices are Spock’s business.”

“I accept your apology, Doctor. I hope that what Jim is about to tell you won’t re-aggravate the situation.”

“Huh?” McCoy sipped his brandy and turned back to Jim. “What’s up, Jim-boy?”

To his surprise, Kirk blushed. “I am hoping to receive your congratulations. Spock and I are married.”

The glass slipped to the carpet with a thud, and McCoy stared, open mouthed, first at Kirk, then at Spock. “Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. When did that happen? You mean you’ve gone and Bonded? Like in that stuff you gave me?”

It was Spock who answered, his voice deep and calm as always. “Yes, Doctor. That is precisely what he means.”

McCoy blinked. Twice. Then he reached down and picked up his glass. Kirk was watching him with some trepidation as he set it on the table. He looked Kirk square in the eye, and then smiled. “Fill ‘er up, Jim. This calls for a toast.”

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge: Kirk is caught in Spock's quarters and becomes witness to Spock masturbating.


End file.
